We arrived in Paris last night.... (Here I omit a passage regarding the children of a family some of whom still survive.) Last night we spent a very agreeable evening at Madame Jaubert’s. There were a great many people present, for we had been invited to meet the celebrated Bellini. There were many people I did not know, and many others who were introduced to me whose names did not reach me. Signor Bellini himself came early. His appearance is charming; he is just like a fat child, pink and white, amiable and good-natured, and not in the least conceited or pretentious. Soon afterwards Prince and Princess Belgiojoso arrived. This was the first time I had set eyes on the Princess. Her beauty and the grace of her person have not, indeed, been exaggerated. She resembles a classical statue, but her face has an expression which recalls later and more romantic times. Her features are regular, but there is something mysterious and rather _strange_ about her face and her dark orbs. Her hair is like ebony, but her skin is very white, and she smiles with a kind of wearied look, as though she were a Chinese idol. Her hands and her hair are most beautiful, and she walks into a room as if there could not be the slightest doubt that she is the most beautiful woman there. And this is true, although perhaps she is too slender. She was elegantly dressed in violet velvet, trimmed with fur, which showed her graceful figure and disappeared in the folds of a black skirt; she wore a black lace mantilla, which she took off when she came into the room. She talks well, and her voice is musical, but, at the same time, it has a cold ring like a crystal glass being tapped. Of course one could not help seeing that she was agreeable and accomplished, but I could not restrain a wicked wish to see her dethroned from her pedestal. It is impossible to say that she gives herself airs, but at the same time there is something _irritating_ about her beauty. As soon as they arrived, Madame Jaubert took the Prince to the pianoforte and said he must sing a duet with Madame de Vergennes, and that it should be the duet out of the “Pirate,” as Bellini was there. The Prince said that he was loth to sing before the Master, but Madame Jaubert appealed to Bellini, and they both succeeded in persuading him. Madame de Vergennes herself accompanied at the pianoforte. The Prince has a real tenor voice, his _méthode_ is excellent, and they sang the duet as it should be sung. Madame Jaubert said to me that if you ask musicians to a party you must let them play an active part at once in public, but if, on the other hand, you invite politicians and literary men it is best to place them in corners and let them talk.